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    Jaunty Jaun, as I was shortly before that made aware, next 
halted to fetch a breath, the first cothurminous leg of his night-
stride being pulled through, and to loosen (let God's son now be
looking down on the poor preambler!) both of his bruised
brogues that were plainly made a good bit before his hosen were,
at the weir by Lazar's Walk (for far and wide, as large as he was
lively, was he noted for his humane treatment of any kind of
abused footgear), a matter of maybe nine score or so barrelhours
distance off as truly he merited to do. He was there, you could
planemetrically see, when I took a closer look at him, that was to
say, (gracious helpings, at this rate of growing our cotted child of
yestereve will soon fill space and burst in systems, so speeds the
instant!) amply altered for the brighter, though still the graven
image of his squarer self as he was used to be, perspiring but
happy notwithstanding his foot was still asleep on him, the way
he thought, by the holy januarious, he had a bullock's hoof in his
buskin, with his halluxes so splendid, through Ireland untran-
scended, bigmouthed poesther, propped up, restant, against a
butterblond warden of the peace, one comestabulish Sigurdsen,
(and where a better than such exsearfaceman to rest from roving
the laddyown he bootblacked?) who, buried upright like the
Osbornes, kozydozy, had tumbled slumbersomely on sleep at
night duty behind the curing station, equilebriated amid the
embracings of a monopolized bottle.